


we are tonight, we are forever

by ofstarsserene



Category: Miss Scarlet and the Duke (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, William is finally done with his denial phase, and he makes sure Eliza knows about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24942337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofstarsserene/pseuds/ofstarsserene
Summary: “Holding her makes him feel certain of something, and for the first time since he met her, this thought doesn’t frighten him out of his wits. (It’s definitely the wine, and Eliza giggles again, and William doesn’t care about anything else).” - aka the night when William Wellington gets tired of pretending he is not in love with Eliza Scarlet
Relationships: Eliza Scarlet/William "Duke" Wellington
Comments: 23
Kudos: 203





	we are tonight, we are forever

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose you might call it a s02 wishlist, but I guess William needs way more time to a) figure out he is indeed utterly besotted and b) find the courage to talk to Eliza about it... but ya gurl can dream

She is radiant in the bright ballroom light, and with Eliza’s hand in his, William doesn’t want this night to end, no matter how sore his feet are going to be in the morning. He feels too old for this kind of dancing, too stiff and out of place in his new dress jacket, but he cannot remember the last time he saw Eliza so happy and free, and if he could, he would turn this moment into a beautiful enchanted figurine to cheer him up on a rainy day (Eliza would probably laugh at him for being so awkwardly poetic).

He thinks that it might be the wine. Or maybe it’s the chatter around him, all those young women who try to catch the eye of an unmarried police detective – all those women who will never be _her_. Maybe it’s the way Eliza’s smile never fails to make him smile back, or the way her laughter fills him with joy – but tonight William doesn’t want to let Eliza Scarlet leave his arms. Holding her makes him feel certain of something, and for the first time since he met her, this thought doesn’t frighten him out of his wits. (It’s definitely the wine, and Eliza giggles again, and William doesn’t care about anything else).

“William,” her voice is barely a whisper, and William realises he is as much out of breath as she is. “Perhaps we should rest. I think my head is spinning.”

Eliza’s face is flushed, and William’s never wanted to kiss her more. He wonders if she would taste the same way she did all those years ago (and perhaps he should feel ashamed of how vividly the memory of their first kiss is carved onto his heart). He offers her his arm instead.

“M’lady? I believe we both are in need of fresh air.”

William thanks heavens for dimly lit secluded balconies. Cold night air bites at his skin, but it’s a welcomed contrast to the noisy and stuffy ballroom. William closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and an involuntary smile forms on his lips. He hears Eliza’s dress softly rustling as she moves closer to the edge, and with the faint sound of music echoing around them, William feels almost weightless.

Eliza makes a quiet noise, shivering in the cold, and it’s only logical that she needs his jacket much more than he does. “Thank you,” she says, and William sees no point in denying that the sight of Eliza Scarlet wearing his clothes makes him believe in the most impossible miracles.

He wonders when and how it started. He marvels at how everything he owns and everything he _is_ or ever _will be_ already belongs to her, and how his every wish is in her power to grant. When did Miss Scarlet – the impossible, unmanageable, infuriating Miss Scarlet – become Eliza, dearest, beloved Eliza? William doesn’t know, cannot pinpoint the moment he fell so foolishly in love with her, but for the first time in all the years he’s known her, he is ready to call this feeling for what it actually is.

He loves her – and as Eliza watches the stars, he watches her, and he is amazed by how natural and how simple it all actually is.

“You know, my mother loved dancing very much,” Eliza breaks the silence, and William moves closer, his hand casually brushing hers. “Father once told me he’d sprained his ankle because he couldn’t keep up with her. He wasn’t too kin on dancing before he’d met her, but she was a willing teacher and he a motivated student.”

Eliza chuckles to herself before continuing. “Father often boasted how he’d danced my mother into marriage, such fine dancer he’d become.”

“And how am I faring with this?” The words are out before William can recognise the implications they entail, and he clears his throat before adding. “Is my dancing bothering you in any way?”

“No,” Eliza’s smile is wide and genuine. “I am happy you are here. I wanted to thank you all evening.”

“For what?”

“For many things, I think,” She averts her eyes and wraps his jacket tighter around her. “For agreeing to accompany me tonight. And for being patient with me when I am being difficult. I know I aggravate you too often.”

“Eliza –”

“Well, it’s true, William,” she speaks up, and William cannot believe they are quarrelling again. “You always say how hard it is for us to coexist peacefully. I know I can be annoying, I can accept my flaws.”

“You don’t annoy me,” he interrupts, and his voice is much calmer than William thought it would be, for right now he just wants her to stop arguing, and his confession is right at the tip of his tongue. “You make me nervous.”

“Is it good nervous or bad nervous?”

It would be so easy to play along and to turn this into an innocent joke, but William is tired of jests.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know the answer to that question, Eliza.”

There are not many things that can startle Eliza Scarlet, and the fact that his words make her eyes go wide sends tingles down William’s spine. His first instinct is to run, but it’s too late for that. He loves her. There is no point in running, not when his heart is hers to keep. Letting go of his defenses feels like finally breaking free.

“Are you still cold?” William asks, hoping she knows it’s never been about the cold, and he wants to kiss her so much it physically hurts. 

“… A little.” 

The look in Eliza’s eyes reflects his own longing, and it’s the only encouragement William needs.

He timidly presses his lips to hers, giving her the opportunity to flee, if she so chooses. But Eliza does what she’s always done best – she surprises him. It’s the briefest moment of hesitation, and then she presses closer to him, eagerly deepening the kiss. Her delicate fingers find their way into his hair, and with his own hands caressing her back, William thinks he is drowning in warmth, and happiness, and love.

Eliza is the one to break the kiss, and William misses her instantly, even though their foreheads are still touching and she is barely a breath away.

“I was so scared I'd got it all wrong,” Eliza’s voice is quiet and shy. “I am glad it’s not the case.”

“You…” it’s William’s turn to be startled, because there is no way Eliza means it, and if she does, then he’s been such a fool for letting her doubt his intentions. “You – what?”

Eliza grins at him, and his heart is a drum beating in his chest.

“Just kiss me, William.”

Maybe it’s the night, or the wine, or the music from the crowded ballroom – but William knows that Eliza is the radiant sun in the grey universe of his plain, uninteresting days, and he would be a fool to let her go. And as Eliza hugs him tighter, he knows he finally doesn’t have to.


End file.
